Ten Commandments
by Force-A-Pancakes
Summary: "You filthy sodomites must learn and if I must use violence to consolidate God's will then so be it." Cortes drawled, voice utterly devoid of emotion as Miguel trembled in his hold.   "Don't touch him, you monster." Tulio spat.  "/I/ won't. But you will."
1. Chapter 1

"Tulio..." Miguel began for about the fifteenth time that evening (it was at least in double figures), looking up through the small hatch in the roof of their dank wooden prison "How many stars would you say there are? Visible through this hole that is. And I'm not sure if you would count the ones that are a little dimmer, or..." he continued on his tangent in this fashion. Tulio sighed and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, feeling the ridges of his spine grate uncomfortably against the wooden floor as his body tensed.

"I don't know, Miguel. Probably billions. No one knows how many stars there are."

"Surely they're countable, though?" he mused, not sensing his partner's irritation or hint to drop the conversation as he raised a hand and mumbled numbers rather loudly.

"If you actually manage to count all the stars, I will marry your sister," Tulio replied. Despite his misgivings, his eyes followed the direction Miguel's hand was pointing and watched the stars. Miguel paused briefly and turned his head, a slight pout present on his face

"You'd better not..." he murmured before going back to his intensive counting. Tulio smirked

"And why not?"

Miguel flushed a little, keeping his gaze fixed on the stars

"Because that would be weird."

Tulio's smirk intensified and he sat up, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his fist.

"Why?" he asked. "She's quite a catch . . . or, you know, she would be if she shaved her moustache."

Miguel half snorted, half growled and sat up also, shooting Tulio a glare

"Better than yours' full on beard."

Tulio raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you WISH you had a beard like my sister," he said, poking his tongue out. Maturely.

"Pffffff, my beard is clipped to perfection. Unlike the bush hanging from your sister's flabby chin." he smirked, giving Tulio a gentle elbow in the ribs. Tulio snorted and nodded, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

"Harsh, but true, I suppose. How do you even find the /time/ to get your beard like that, anyway?"

The blond frowned to himself, screwing up his face in thought

"Well actually... it just sort of grows like that. I just tidy it up a little around the edges, you know?"

Tulio nodded and blinked, staring at his partner's beard.

"Looks good, anyway," he said, shrugging and lying back down, squinting up at the stars.

"Urmmmmm... thanks?" Miguel responded with a small laugh, lying back down right next to him "How many are you on?"

"Mm. Uh, about… fifty?" Truth be told, Tulio had lost count after seeing a collection of stars that looked like a crown, and had drifted into a daydream in which he was the King of the Night Sky. Miguel nodded absentmindedly eyes still on the sky before suddenly beginning to flail madly.

"OOH LOOK, TULIO, LOOK! I CAN SEE A HORSE!"

Tulio raised his eyebrows at his flailing friend, rolling to the side to avoid getting a broken nose.

"God, Miguel, what is it with you and horses?"

"No, no, a REAL horse! Up there!" he shrieked, jumping to his feet and utterly ignoring the other's question. Tulio glanced up and, sure enough, there was a white - or grey, Tulio really couldn't remember what the colour rules with horses was - staring down at them.

"Where did _he_ come from?"

Again too excited to acknowledge the question, Miguel began to bounce around in excitement

"Tulio, Tuliooooo, will you give me a boost! I want to see him! Pleaaase?" he begged, grabbing the other man's hand and hauling him up, staring at him with wide green puppy-dog eyes. Tulio sighed and tried to pry his hand out of Miguel's over-excited, bone-crushing grip.

"Don't give me that face, Miguel; it's almost definitely not safe to pet that horse."

"Oh come ooooon, Tuli! Please!" he pleaded, continuing with the puppy eyes before progressing to wiggle his thick eyebrows suggestively.

"Do you _want_ your hand bitten off?" Tulio replied, staring at the all-but-bouncing man in front of him. "By the horse or by me, I'm not quite sure yet."

"He's not gonna bite my hand off! Look at him! Pleaaase, Tuli, I'll do anythiiing!~"

Tulio flushed and cleared his throat, suddenly not able to meet Miguel's - extremely wide and hopeful - eyes.

"F-fine, but if it bites you, I'm not doing anything to help you," he mumbled, cursing the tiny catch in his voice.

Miguel pumped his fist in victory, oblivious to Tulio's embarrassment

"Yes!" he yelled, positioning himself with his back to the other, arms stretched upwards.

Blushing harder, if possible, Tulio knelt down and grabbed Miguel by his knees, hoisting him up.

"High enough for you?" he said, sarcasm colouring his voice as he tried to keep the blond steady. He was heavier than he looked. After wobbling around a little, Miguel grabbed one of the bars

"Yeah that's great! Oooh, hello there, old boy!" he cooed, already hypnotized by the horse that had jumped right to licking his hand, covering it in slobber "I think he likes me!"

Tulio looked up and immediately regretted it when a large glob of horse saliva landed on his forehead.

"Ugh, Miguel, that's disgusting! Are you _quite done yet_?"

"Yeah, just- ohh" he suddenly broke into a fit of uncontrollable snorts and giggle "S-Stop that, old boy, that tickles, I- woah!" he exclaimed as the horse licked along the back of his knuckles, flailing his legs and accidentally kicking Tulio where it hurts "Ack, sorry!" he called, before realising that he was only holding onto the bars - his friend must have doubled over at the impact.

"OOOWWW, GOD, MIGUEL!" Tulio shouted, falling to the ground and curling into a foetal position, banging his forehead repeatedly against the floor to try and distract himself from the excruciating pain between his legs. "Ow ow ow ow . . ."

"Tuli, I'm sorry, but I-" he flailed his legs further, attempting to find some kind of foothold that he knew wasn't there. "Tulio!"

Tulio took a short break from writhing in agony to look up at his friend's legs dangling from the top of the brig and paled as he realised what was probably going to happen next.

"Miguel, don't - !"

"Tulio, my hands are too swea-tyyyyy!" his last word was elongated as his fingers slid from around the metal and he dropped towards the wooden floor. Tulio yelled something unintelligible as Miguel dropped to the floor on his back, wincing at the 'thunk' sound on impact.

"Migu - ow, Miguel?" he called out, hesitantly.

"I'm ok... " he whimpered, taking a breath "Ahh. Good thing for this straw here, eh?" there was a short silence before he added "Are /you/ okay?", though more quietly. Tulio groaned and gritted his teeth against the pain, which seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

"What do _you_ think?" he ground out, trying to sit up and regain some dignity. Miguel gave a sigh, pouting slightly and avoiding Tulio's eyes

"Well I didn't _mean_ for it to happen... I just wanted to look at the horse..." he murmured, a great deal more quiet that usual.

"You and your horses," Tulio growled as he sat himself against the beam coming out of the floor. "Oooww . . ."

"Tulio?" he asked slowly, facing the ground and tugging a little at his hair, a nervous habit of his.

"What, Miguel?" Tulio said, resting his forehead on his knees and taking deep breaths.

"Is that..." he paused and took a breath, looking up at his partner with wide, almost frightened eyes "D-D'you think that'll be the last horse we'll ever see?"

Tulio slowly raised his head to stare in disbelief at the blond standing in front of him.

"Are you being _serious_, Miguel?" he said in a strangled voice. "I think you've /broken/ something down there, and you're worrying about _horses_?"

Miguel made an exasperated sound, expression growing more desperate

"Not just horses, lots of things..." there were a few seconds of silence before he merely whispered "What's going to happen to us, Tulio?"

Tulio sighed and straightened up, the pain _finally_ starting to ebb away a bit, and stared up at the ceiling.

". . . I don't know, Miguel," he said, after a long stretch of silence. "Well, after the being deported and flogging and slavery and more flogging I don't know."

Miguel gave an ironic snort

"Well, at least we'll be in Cuba, eh?" he grinned, but following another long silence, he decided he just wasn't going to lie to himself anymore. "Tulio... I'm scared." he stated slowly, only just having had the realisation himself. Tulio looked over to his partner-in-crime and saw the fear in his eyes and the nervous fidget he developed whenever he was scared. He sighed and patted the space next to him, indicating for Miguel to sit down.

"Yeah. Me too."

Crawling over to sit next to Tulio, Miguel sat up slowly, obviously deep in thought

"What if..." A what if. Oh dear god. The rest came out in a stream. ",everyone'sreallydarkinCubaI'llstickoutlikeasorethumbI''sHOUSEandreallyhorriblethings'llhappenandIknowthey'llhappen'causeI'lllooksoweirdI'llbelikeawalkingsignsaying''!"

Tulio listened to this tirade with an expression of tolerance, similar to one a parent adopts when their child is having a meltdown. When Miguel had run out of air and was consigned to making frantic movements with his hands, Tulio grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard.

"We. Are. Going. To. Be. Fine. Miguel," he said, practically barking the words. "Clear?"

"But how do you _know_?" he wailed after having calmed down a little and regaining his breath. Tulio shook him again, more gently this time.

"Because we'll be fine as long as we . . ." Here he cleared his throat "as long as we stay together. Or whatever. Y`know. OK?"

Miguel panted a little, balling his hands and clutching Tulio's shirt

"What if they split us up?" he asked, voice breaking a little. He was the designated optimist of the pair, but the thought of being in slavery somewhere completely foreign without Tulio was the stuff of nightmares to him. Tulio frowned in thought, his mind jumping to every horrible scenario conceivable. He tightened his grip on Miguel's shoulders.

"They won't," he said stubbornly. "Definitely not."

After a few moments of just looking at Tulio, the blond nodded slowly, gingerly leaning his head inwards towards the other's chest. Tulio let go of Miguel's shoulders to put his arms (slightly awkwardly) around his shoulders instead, resting his chin on the others' head. He gave Miguel a light squeeze and patted his back.

"We'll get along alright, Miguel," he said quietly, staring at the wall. Miguel nodded into the other's chest, suppressing the shaking his shoulders had begun.

"Yeah... alright, alright..."

"Hey," Tulio said gently, breaking the hug a little to look down at Miguel. "Do _not_ cry. We're fine. OK?"

Miguel nodded harder, quickly raising a hand to cover his moist eyes. He'd always been pretty emotional, he couldn't help it.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're fine."

Tulio took the blond back in his arms and bumped Miguel's forehead with his chin, not quite hard enough to hurt.

"Yep. We're fine. Now stop your crying."

Letting out a little laugh, Miguel slowly let a smile creep onto his face

"Ok, ok."

Tulio pulled away and took Miguel by the shoulders again, bending down a bit to look into his eyes.

"You OK now?"

"Yeah, I'm fine... stop bending down, would you? It makes me feel short." he pouted, one last tear leaking from his eye before he performed some kind of combined sniff-giggle. Tulio snorted and lightly cuffed the blond on the side of his head, messing up his hair.

"I'll stop bending down if you grow a couple inches."

"Whaaaaaaaat, I can't help it!" he whined, gawping at the ABSOLUTE UNFAIRNESS of the implication against his height "You're just a giant!"

Tulio smirked and leant back against the wall, arrogantly stretching out his limbs and crossing them.

"Thank you very much for the compliment, Miguel."

The blond puffed his cheeks out in irritation, attempting something similar but just crossing his legs over and falling towards Tulio.

"Hey!"

Tulio caught the smaller man by the upper arms and pulled him into a kneeling position, facing him. "Why are you so clumsy today?"

Willing the blush from his cheeks, Miguel emitted a theatrical sigh

"Oh I don't know, it must be because I'm so SHORT, hmm?"

"Glad you're finally seeing things my way, Miguel," Tulio replied happily, giving Miguel's arms a final squeeze before letting go and settling back against the wall.

"Oh do shut up." Miguel grinned suddenly clambering on top of him leaning in close, his forehead touching Tulio's. He wore a ridiculously oblivious smile across his cheeks. Tulio swallowed at suddenly having Miguel so close and almost jerked backwards from shock, before remembering there is a rather hard wooden be behind his head and catching himself.

"Miguel . . . you're kind of . . ." He trailed off. Miguel blinked innocently, question marks practically visible floating around his head.

"Kind of what?"

"Uhhmm. Well. You're kind of . . . on top of me . . ." Tulio tailed off.

"Yes, yes I am." Miguel stated, with a small laugh "And?"

"Um . . . no reason, just . . . i-is now the best time?"

Miguel furrowed his brows in confusion

"...For what? You're being weird again."

Tulio somehow simultaneously raised and furrowed his eyebrows at Miguel.

"Well, climbing on top of me and being all . . . er, close."

"We're usually close... I mean, it's not like we're... you know..." he gave a snort "/romantically infatuated/ or anything..."

"Oh." Tulio broke eye contact and looked off to their left. "Of course, no. I was just /thrown/ by you sitting in my lap." He flashed his blond counterpart a glare. Miguel made a disgruntled noise, face flushing

"Well, I'm hardly in your lap... well I sort of ... but... uh..." he trailed off, staring into Tulio's eyes. Tulio stared right back, his brow still furrowed from the glare but not really meaning it all that much anymore.

"Uh.. well..." Miguel began, gaze not moving "We should probably.. uh.. do something. W-With the plan, I mean." he gabbled awkwardly.

"Y-yeah, proba . . . probably," Tulio stuttered. His eyes weren't moving from their place locked on Miguel's either. "Um."

"Yes. Onto that... Yup..." Miguel continued in the same strained fashion, still not moving. Tulio watched Miguel babble on and on and on, inwardly sighing at the way Miguel never changed. Never seemed to be any less than a hundred per cent enthusiastic about everything.

But he liked that about him.

"Miguel," he said. He swallowed and put a hand on his friend's - still wildly gesticulating - arm. Miguel jumped slightly, yelping in shock brought on by his own hysteria

"YES! Yes! Ah, Miguel, yes, th-that's me! Miguel." he spluttered Miguel is I... I is... Miguel..." he finished weakly, a tone present in his voice hinting that he doubted his coherentness in the sentence. Tulio raised an eyebrow.

"I /am/ Miguel, is the right way to end that sentence," he said softly. His grip tightened on his partner's hand. "But that doesn't really matter all that much," he said, and pulled Miguel gently forwards until their lips were touching. The blond made a surprised noise upon meeting the other's mouth, but it didn't take him long to melt into the kiss. He didn't know whether Tulio was doing this to tell him something, or whether it was just his way of coping with the stress, or whether he was trying to make him feel better, but whatever it was, he really needed it. Tulio tentatively put his arms around Miguel to pull him closer, feeling Miguel wince a little bit as the his stubble scratched the other man's cheek as they kissed. He didn't really know what the hell he was doing. He had just felt that kissing Miguel was The Right Thing To Do. They both needed it and their bond had always run deeper than friendship . . .

The shorter male's hands clutched at Tulio's shirt as he was brought closer, slender fingers twisting into the blue fabric and hanging on desperately, making sure to keep their lips firmly locked together, as if that could somehow delay their seemingly unavoidable fate. He wanted to pour his very soul into this one kiss.

Tulio was, it has to be said, very glad that he hadn't been punched or bitten or something for initiating something like this. He felt Miguel's hands grab onto his shirt as he pulled them closer together, so close he could feel Miguel's heart thump against his chest. Still struggling to comprehend what this all meant, Miguel pulled his mouth away momentarily, albeit he was still so close the he could feel his hot breath ricocheting back at him from the lower half of his partner's face

"Tulio, what if... I-I mean, aren't people meant to go to hell or something for this sort of thing?" he breathed, panting slightly. Resting his forehead on Miguel's and closing his eyes, Tulio pulled in a deep, shuddering breath.

"Two men . . . those damn Catholics," he mumbled. Letting out an indignant snort, Miguel shook his head against Tulio's

"I know... bloody twats, the lot of them... with all their stupid rules. See why I wanted out of Spain now?" he sighed. Tulio sniggered and bumped his forehead against Miguel's playfully, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, I can see why. But they can't be the only reason. Them and their . . . Ten Commandos or whatever they are."

Miguel let out a loud bark of laughter, immediately moving to cover his mouth after doing so "_Commandments_, Tuli." he corrected, still giggling "And of course they're not the only reason, but they're a huge factor."

Tulio snapped his fingers and a grin appeared on his face.

"I knew it was 'command' something. Those Catholics with their made-up words," he smirked. "I assume the promise of gold was another huge factor?"

Miguel shook his head, a broad grin slowly spreading across his lips

"For you maybe... but I think... I think it'll be the greatest adventure of our lives!" he moved away a little in order to resume his usual flamboyant gesturing "I mean, just imagine what-" he was cut short by a rush of water splashing through the metal bars above them.

"KEEP IT QUIET IN... there..."

Miguel parted the drenched golden tresses hanging over his eyes like a curtain and looked up to see an alarmed looking sailor clutching an empty barrel. He just stared for a few moments before realising he was still in Tulio's lap.

"Shit."

Tulio froze and stared up at the sailor, who was still staring at them with his mouth hanging wide open. A million different excuses ran through Tulio's mind - "he was showing me his gold tooth", "we were seeing whose legs were strongest", etc - but eventually his brain kicked in and he stood up quickly, pointing an accusing finger at the sopping wet blond on the floor.

"What were you doing sitting on me while I was asleep?" he boomed, sending a discreet wink his partner's way.

"What? I wasn't-" Lightbulb. The blond jumped gracelessly to his feet and puffed his chest out "Sitting on you!" he looked up at the sailor and pointed at Tulio similarly "This madman was sexually assaulting me! He is insane! Did he not notice the ever so manly and dashing scruff upon my handsome jaw! I am a manly man and I will not tolerate this! Especially upon an honourable ship such as this one!" he shouted theatrically, marching up to Tulio and giving him a prod in the chest. Tasteless as it was, it was the only idea he had.

"How_ dare_ you!" Tulio practically screeched, stumbling back over-dramatically in response to Miguel's prod. "Why would _I_, an extremely strapping and refined gentlemen, want to sexually assault _you_, also a gentleman - albeit of a lesser calibur to myself? Not to mention of far less masculinity."

Tulio stepped forward and promptly flicked Miguel's nose.

"Is that a_ jab_ at my shockingly handsome and manly appearance? Do you flick my nose, sir?" Shakespeare. Get in there. There was no way he could lose.

"I _do_ flick your nose, sir!" Tulio exclaimed, squaring up to the other man. "And I'll do it again!"

"Bring it on…" Miguel hissed, standing on his tiptoes "you… you… _tower_!"

"You think _you_ could take _me_?" Tulio said with faux shock. "Pah! You make me laugh."

"No, _you_ make _me_ laugh!" Miguel shot back, shrieking a battle cry and tackling Tulio. By this point the sailor was at an utter loss as to what to do or who to believe. Tulio let out a surprised "oof" as he was tackled backwards and smacked into the wooden be with an 'enraged' Miguel attached to his torso. The blond pulled himself up a little

"See? _Now_ I'm sitting on you!" he snickered triumphantly. Tulio growled and shoved Miguel hard so that his back hit the floor and Tulio was on his hands and knees over him, pinning him to the floor.

"On the contrary, my good man,_ I_ seem to be on top of _you_."

"Ah, touché... but _now_" he muttered, grunting as he flipped them over again "_I_ seem to be on top of _you_."

The sailor stared in total befuddlement as the two men rolled all over the floor. He wasn't really sure who was winning, or what was going on, or really how any of this had started. Tulio, meanwhile, was glaring up at Miguel's triumphant face.

"What do you want, a medal?" was his "witty" retort.

"Why yes, I _would_ like a medal as a matter of..." he peered upwards briefly "Yes! He's gone!"

Tulio collapsed backwards with laughter, running a hand through his still-wet hair.

"That _never_ fails."

Miguel did the same, rolling over to lie next to him

"Classic." he chuckled, wringing out his massive sleeves "Ugh, I'm drenched…" he muttered, still laughing.

"Ditto . . . Christ, that water was cold," Tulio grinned; helping Miguel beat the water out of his shirt. "It was _completely_ uncalled for."

"Yeah... they're all sadists here." Miguel grumbled, squeezing out Tulio's ponytail for him in return.

"Thanks . . . that'd explain the stocks," Tulio replied, smacking the side of his head to get water out of his ear.

"Of course." Miguel snorted "You okay there, partner? Have you got water in your ear? Because an old man once told me that if you leave water in your ears, seaweed starts to grow..." his expression grew a little anxious "You need to get it out!"

Tulio sat up, tilted his head to one side and raised an eyebrow at Miguel.

"I'm sure I'll get it out. But if I don't and I die from seaweed poisoning to the brain, make sure whatever family I may have get all my worldly possessions, such as they are."

This served to only worry Miguel further, the blond not quite catching onto the sarcasm in his tired state

"You can't leave me Tulio! What about enslavement in Cuba!"

"Alright then, if I die, _you_ can have all my worldly possessions and sell them to buy your freedom," Tulio said, 'reassuringly'.

"No! No, no, no, come on, Tulio!" he shrieked, shaking the other by the shoulders before quickly pressing his lips against Tulio's briefly, pulling back quickly. Tulio grabbed onto Miguel's hands before he could remove them from his shoulders and smiled at him.

"I'm sure you'd be fine without me, Miguel. I mean, did you know that seven out of ten of deaths at sea are seaweed-in-the-brain related?"

Miguel made a wailing noise then abruptly stopped, narrowing his green eyes at Tulio

"You're pulling my leg, aren't you?" he asked flatly.

"I don't know, am I?" Tulio said with the most innocent voice in his arsenal. Miguel pouted, tugging a little against his grip

"Yes." he replied sulkily. Tulio tightened his grip on Miguel's fingers and poked his tongue out at the struggling man opposite him.

"Sure? Because my hands are nowhere _near_ your legs."

Miguel huffed, resting his forehead against Tulio's and staring viciously into his eyes

"You're not funny, Tulio!"

"I am_ quite_ funny."

Tulio still had a smirk glued to his face.

"Not in the slightest."

Miguel poked his tongue out, completely forgetting how close he was to the other's face.

"So we've reached the licking-each-other's-faces stage in our relationship, have we?" Tulio said, grinning and arching an eyebrow. Miguel's cheeks turned scarlet and he made to pull away

"Y-Yes, apparently so."

Tulio didn't even bother with any more witty banter - he just grabbed Miguel by the lapels of his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. Miguel offered no resistance, going limp in Tulio's arms and kissing back enthusiastically, resting his hands on his partner's chest.

Smirking inwardly at Miguel's willingness, Tulio cinched his arms tight around the other man, securing him there as they kissed. He didn't even register the clanking of keys or the squeaky sound of the hatch opening until it was far too late. Miguel tore his lips away at the sound of someone clearing their throat and recoiled

"Cortes..." he breathed in terror for the second time that day.


	2. Chapter 2

Hernan Cortes was, to say the least, unimpressed. He took a step towards the conmen, looming over them menacingly  
>"You have the audacity to stow away on my ship in the first place, and now this? Sodomy? Explain yourselves!" he barked, voice a low, vicious growl. Tulio stared with wide, shocked eyes up at Cortes, who was radiating intimidation and utter contempt as he glared at the two of them. Tulio cleared his throat and started trying to smartmouth his way out of the situation.<br>"We . . . hadn't technically got to the sodomy ye-"  
>"Silence, heathen!" the conquistador roared, taking a few more thundering steps and seizing Miguel by the wrist, pulling him roughly from Tulio's arms and into his chest with his sword poised across his neck. He gave a bitter chuckle "Not so cocky now, eh?" he hissed, Miguel looking on helplessly at Tulio. He stood up sharply and a strangled noise came from the back of his throat - probably in sympathy for Miguel.<br>"H-hey, get your hands off him!" he shouted, his hands balling into fists by his sides.  
>'Yeah, like you could take Cortes in a fistfight,' the more rational part of his brain retorted. Cortes raised an eyebrow, eyes boring into Tulio<br>"My my... you /are/ still cocky. How about if I were to do this..." he sneered, sheathing the sword and holding both the struggling blond's wrists in one huge hand, running his fingers along his jaw slowly with the other.  
>Tulio tried to launch himself at Cortes's throat to give him a well-deserved what-for, but was restrained by the sailor from earlier. He kicked and struggled but wasn't as strong as he usually was due to their prolonged imprisonment and couldn't get free.<br>Cortes didn't even flinch at Tulio's attempted attack - he just raised one thick eyebrow and tightened his grip on Miguel's hands.  
>"Of course you wouldn't be aware of the Ten Commandments, heathen, as you have just broken one," he growled, narrowing his eyes. "Thou shalt not covet."<br>"He's hardly coveting!" Miguel spoke up, earning him a strike across the face from Cortes.  
>"Quiet, I was not speaking to you." he growled. Miguel flinched, defeated. It had been a blatant lie anyway; he'd seen the furious, jealous flare in Tulio's eyes. Tulio flinched as Miguel's cheekbone absorbed the impact, trying to hurl himself forward to try and help but only serving to have his arms twisted behind his back by the sailor. He cried out in pain.<br>"In fact," Cortes continued, completely ignoring Tulio, "it would not surprise me to find out that you have kept to none of the Commandments."  
>Miguel remained silent, ceasing to yank against the huge man's hand due to wondering whether they actually had/. He shot his partner a worried glance. Tulio shook his head at Miguel, trying to reassure him. Cortes caught it and snarled, spinning Miguel around so his back was to his chest and Miguel's arms were locked behind his back.  
>"I think," he continued "that you have only managed to keep one commandment. Not working on the Sabbath day." his expression became beastly "Because neither of you have worked a day in your pitiful lives." he punctuated the last two words by roughly grabbing a fistful of Miguel's hair and shoving him forward as much as possible without breaking his hold on his arms. The blond's face was contorted in pain as Cortes tugged on his hair, forcing him to look at Tulio.<br>"Miguel!"  
>Tulio thrashed around in the sailor's hold, trying desperately to free himself. He kicked and spat and swore but to no avail; the man had the hands of a blacksmith.<br>"Quiet," Cortes hissed. "Neither of you ignorant /children/ will say a /word/." he paused momentarily "Why don't we test the threshold of your little... harlot?" he spat, calling to one of the sailors "Bring me a cat-o'-nine-tails."  
>"No!/" Tulio shouted. He knew the pain of the whip. They both did. He'd felt it bite into the skin of his back, felt the blood run down his spine and soak into his clothes, and he never, ever wanted Miguel to have to go through it again. "Don't you /dare/ -"  
>"You filthy sodomites must learn and if I must use violence to consolidate God's will then so be it." he drawled, voice utterly devoid of emotion as Miguel trembled in his hold. A smirk crossed his face "Do not fear. If you repent, we may spare his face any wounds." he cackled, roughly grasping Miguel's jaw between his fingers, forcing his gaze onto him. The blond swallowed hard and glared into the others eyes, trying to keep his fear buried inside him. At least it would be just him and not Tulio, who was shaking by this point. He'd lost all feeling in his legs and would have fallen to the ground were it not for the sailor's arms keeping him upright.<br>"Don't /touch/ him, you fucking monster," Tulio spat. "I'll kill you if you so much as -"  
>Cortes motioned to the sailor holding Tulio to hit him and turned to the other sailor who had brought back the whip.<br>"Remove his shirt and bind him." he commanded, shoving Miguel carelessly towards him. Tulio was thrown forward and landed on his knees in front of Miguel, both of them trembling with fear and pain. Tulio glared up at Cortes, crossing his arms stubbornly when a rope was tossed towards them.  
>"No."<br>"10 strokes or you both die, here and now." Cortes said coldly and drew his sword, the other sailors following suit.  
>"Tulio..." Miguel whispered softly, saying nothing more, only holding his hands out and giving his partner a weak, defeated nod. He looked disbelievingly at Miguel, helpless and kneeling on the ground. His gaze shifted to the whip, dark and ominous in Cortes's hold. He swallowed.<br>"Miguel . . . I-I can't . . ."  
>Miguel frowned pleadingly, biting back his own terror to encourage the other<br>"Tulio, you /have/ to..." he whispered, taking the other's face in his hands "Can't hurt that much, right?" he asked jovially with his best attempt at his trademark crooked smile. The sailors moved forward to stop their contact, but Cortes held a hand up to stop them. He wanted this to be as harsh as possible on both men.  
>Tulio grasped Miguel's hands in his own, kissing the palm of his partner's left hand and frowning.<br>"Cut it out. I can't hurt you like that, Miguel. I . . ."  
>Miguel shook his head, gripping his hands tightly<br>"Tulio, I won't blame you... listen, we will both /die/ if you don't." he said as gravely as he could, pushing back the tears trying to leave his eyes no longer from fear, but from the sorrow of seeing his partner in this state. Tulio screwed his eyes shut tightly and swallowed. He leant forward to press his lips against Miguel's forehead, his breathing heavy and laboured and his heart thudding painfully behind his ribs.  
>"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered against Miguel's skin. "I'll try to make this . . . I'll try to be gentle."<br>Miguel took a shaky breath and gave Tulio's hands one last squeeze before letting go and holding out his own hands once again, crossed at the wrists  
>"I know, love, I know... I don't/ blame you." he repeated, slightly stronger this time. Tears blinded Tulio as he reached for the rope and bound Miguel's hands as loosely as he could get away with; continually muttering that he was sorry as he did so. He straightened up to glare at Cortes and held his hand out for the whip.  
>"You bastard," he hissed, tears escaping his eyes and running down his cheeks. "You rotten, filthy bastard./"  
>"Throw the other end of the rope through the bars. Fernandez will catch it." Cortes commanded, completely unperturbed by the dark haired man's insults and obvious raw emotions. Tulio swallowed and angrily swiped the tears away. He did as Cortes ordered, sending apologetically pleading looks to Miguel, who shook his head, eyes screaming 'It's not/ your fault' before emitting a pained yelp as Fernandez yanked unnecessarily hard on the rope. Tulio flinched, feeling as though the sound had pierced his heart. He gritted his teeth, turned to Cortes and held out his hand again.  
>"Give. It."<br>Cortes smirked, dropping the whip into the conman's outstretched hand  
>"Ten lashes. You will give a commandment for each one and if prompting is required, you will give an extra lash."<br>Tulio stared in disbelief at the conquistador, his mind all but grounding to a halt at the cruelty of the man. His fingers tightened around the whip.  
>"I'm sorry, Miguel… so sorry" he ground out as he faced his partner.<br>"I know, Tuli, I know..." Miguel whispered, hanging his head. Noticing the possibility of the blond offering support or condolences, Cortes muttered something to a sailor, who walked away and promptly returned with a cloth which he promptly tied around Miguel's mouth. Tulio swallowed. He spun around on his heel and walked around behind Miguel. He stared at his friend's back, knowing it was do or die but his mind shied away from the despicable act he was about to commit. He gritted his teeth and raised the whip, his entire body shaking. "Thou shalt have no other God before Me," he whispered, and brought the whip down.  
>Miguel couldn't surpress the scream that was ripped from his throat as the whip tore into the flesh of his back, the hooks digging in and ripping through his skin. He was glad/ he was gagged. Tulio felt bile rise in his throat but he fought it down, desperate not to give Cortes any more satisfaction. He couldn't stop the choked sound of horror that escaped from his throat as he saw the blood drip from Miguel's back, though. The blond mentally begged that Tulio would be aware that the less time left between strokes, the more the new pain would dull into the old.  
>"Thou . . . thou shalt not take unto thee any graven image," Tulio muttered, cracking the whip again. 'Whatever that/ means,' his hysterical mind added. Cortes nodded his approval, Miguel making a similar noise to before, albeit more restrained for Tulio's sake.  
>". . . remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy." Crack. No scream. He couldn't do it to Tulio. He had to just stay quiet.<br>"Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain," Tulio choked. His arm felt detatched from the rest of his body as he brought the whip down. It made a horrible hissing sound every time Tulio unwillingly cut the air with it. Miguel squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears, a shriek of agony escaping him, as he was unable to keep his resolution of silence.  
>"P-please . . ." Tulio whispered, his hand slick with sweat on the handle of the whip. "Stop this . . . I'll take it, not him, not anymore."<br>Miguel screamed something from behind the gag, sobbing and shaking his head. Cortes remained silent even though he had already made up his mind that they would finish, waiting to see how Tulio would handle it. "I-I can't . . . Miguel, you're . . ." Tulio stared in complete disgust at the lines he had ripped in his partner's back. The blond shook his head faster, looking over his shoulder and widening his eyes at Tulio as a signal to go on.  
>"I . . ." Tulio was silenced by a low growl coming from Cortes. He ran the flat edge of the sword along his palm and stared at the duo with cold eyes. "… honour thy father and thy mother."<br>Miguel might have given an ironic snort after this one, were it not for the circumstances. 'Almost there, Tulio...' he thought, genuinely more concerned for his partner's mental wellbeing than anything else. Tulio's head felt swimmy, like he'd drank too much and stood up too fast, but ten times worse. The smell of Miguel's blood was thick in the air as he raised his arm for the sixth time.  
>"Th-thou shalt not kill."<br>They were over halfway, and Miguel was relieved to feel his back go numb - his screams were lessened. The cat-o-nine-tails made a sound akin to a scream as it sliced through the air.  
>"Thou shalt not commit adultery."<br>'Whoops... does... Barcelona count? Because that really was a... misunderstanding.' Miguel thought groggily, starting to slip out of consciousness. Tulio let out an ironic snort, his hand limp around the whip, as he realised what the next one was.  
>"Thou shalt not steal," he all but growled.<br>"Stop." Cortes held up a hand and signalled the medic to go forwards and check on the blond.  
>"Unconscious," the medic pronounced after checking the blonde's pulse, dropping his hand unceremoniously.<br>Tulio blanched and ran forward, dropping to his knees in front of Miguel's slumped body and tearing the cloth from his mouth. "Miguel?"  
>Miguel remained still, Cortes just raising an eyebrow<br>"Pour seawater on his back."  
>"Miguel, Miguel, wake up, come on/," Tulio said softly, one hand on either side of Miguel's face. He swallowed. "Wake /up./"  
>"Stand aside, heathen." Cortes said flatly, as the sailor returned with a bucket of salt water.<br>"No. I'm staying here until he comes around," Tulio said stubbornly. Cortes growled  
>"We are not doing it to hurt him - it will serve as a disinfectant. Unless you want/ him to be at risk of death." he said mockingly. Tulio swallowed and pushed Miguel's hair back from his face. "No. I don't w-want him dead." He stood up, his legs shaking.  
>"Then stand aside/." Cortes hissed, teeth gritted in irritation. Tulio stood aside and watched as Miguel was doused in seawater, wincing as if he could feel the salt water soak into his own skin.  
>"FUCK!" Miguel howled, in English, pupils contracted from the pain. He threw himself back, hitting the wall, and collapsed in a heap, shivering and sobbing.<br>"MIGUEL!" Tulio ran forwards and grabbed his partner by the shoulders, wanting to hold him but scared of hurting him more. "Miguel, I'm here, are you . . .?"  
>"Shit, it..." he hissed in pain, curling into Tulio, tears escaping his eyes "It bloody burns..."<br>Tulio pressed his forehead against his partner's, unsure where to put his arms to avoid hurting him. "I'm sorry, it'll stop in a minute, I'm sorry . . ."  
>"N-Not..." he grimaced, wincing "not your fault..."<br>"Oh, shush, it is /mostly/ my fault."  
>"Enough. Resume where you left off," Cortes barked, annoyed. "This is taking far longer than it should."<br>Miguel gave a casual shrug, even though his eyes screamed of the pain flooding his body  
>"Oh well, a-at least I don't have hairy armpits or something..." he said, voice thick with tears "or this'd be a great deal less pleasant for everyone."<br>Tulio choked out something between a sob and a chuckle and clutched desperately at Miguel's hands. "Yeah, because this situation could be /so/ much worse . . ."  
>"Ah come on, it could..." he replied with a weak grin.<br>"Really." Tulio raised an eyebrow. "How?"  
>"I wouldn't want to give him any ideas." he muttered, gesturing at Cortes with a devilish grin.<br>"Good point, good point," Tulio snorted, glancing over at Cortes. "Don't know how much more either of us could take."  
>"Yup." Miguel nodded, staggering to his feet at standing proudly, back as straight as the wounds would allow. He glared defiantly at Cortes. 'I'll take it... you won't/ break me.'  
>"We'll see. You've still got two more lashes," Cortes glared, slightly disappointed that there hadn't been more screaming and begging. He tossed the whip to Tulio. "Get on with it."<br>Shaking his hair out from where it had been stuck to his face with sweat, Miguel casually turned his bleeding back to Tulio again. Tulio, somewhat strengthened by his partner's confidence, took a deep breath and raised the whip for the penultimate time. "Thou shalt . . . thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour."  
>A strangled cry of pain came from Miguel, who could feel his confidence disappearing as if it were being sucked down a huge drain. The last stroke felt like the most painful, probably due to the long interval that had been left. Tulio raised his arm for the last time, taking a deep breath before bringing the whip down -<br>"Thou shalt not covet" - and rushing forward to grab his partner.


End file.
